


Hole in the sky

by Idonquixote



Category: Xī yóu jì | Journey to the West - Wú Cheng'en
Genre: 135 words per chapter, Angst with a Happy Ending, But I don't care, Canon - Public Domain, Drabble Collection, Hurt/Comfort, I shouldn't ship this, M/M, literary blasphemy, no regrets, this belongs to the public domain so I cannot be stopped, yes this is a wukong/sanzang story, yes this is slash fic about a monkey and a monk
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-09
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-22 12:48:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7439965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Idonquixote/pseuds/Idonquixote
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It comes apart like a tapestry, their sun-misted sky.</p>
<p>(A series of drabbles revolving around a complex event concerning a Tang Monk and his senior disciple.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Every chapter in this story will have 135 words because they're pronounced "san" and "wu" in Mandarin; this way, I can number the drabble wordcounts after Sanzang and Wukong. Yes, I know this is an odd pairing, and by writing this, I'm desecrating my own childhood. But I... ship it pretty hard now. (There are quite a number of fanfics for this pairing in Chinese, but little to none in English so here we go haha)
> 
> Not based on any particular adaptation or text.

If he were human, he may ask “why.” But for the likes of him, it simply is.

He knows this is so the night they stop under summer winds, sheltered by old wood, stars winding and temple chimes clinking, like the chatter of locusts and swaying peaches. On the porch, the Master asks him- why are you unhappy?

If he were happy, he would not have- left his home, once, twice- stormed the heavens- wanted more.

“I am happy,” he says.

For once, he wants no more than the labor of their journey west. He nuzzles against Master’s shoulder- by your side, I am happy. So so happy. And Master strokes his head. This is heaven and home, and every want.

But desire is the base of pain. And it crushes him in the end.


	2. Chapter 2

Master is a cloud, thin and pale, but wide as the sky. Master is sun and storm and all that he lives for.

He knows the monk’s every blush and tear, fear and flush. He catches every smile and yell, rages and whines and obeys and laughs. Master is an ever-changing cloud, a pure slow drop he clings onto with heart and mind- all I want.

This is a happiness that aches, gnaws at him from within and flips him like a somersaulting pebble.

Then there is a blot in the ever misty sky- “Wukong”- the door slides open.

Master’s shadow falls over him on a sunny noon.

“I know everything.”

“Master-”

“I’ll have to hurt you now.”

The mantra starts before he can utter- master. He folds like a doll, head in his paws.


	3. Chapter 3

His mind is not clear. Robes folded under and hands clasped straight, he stares past the chimes and thinks. Desire is the base of pain and his disciple should have known thrice better. It is a folly that monkey brought upon himself.

Wukong does not tease him anymore, no longer laughs and gibbers by his ear. Only regards the master with a bowed head and near-cowering shoulders, a fixed image of disappointment and pain, like a sagging puppet.

Wukong should not desire him- should not even have entertained the thought. It is the Goddess that told him and She that warned him- your paths must be clear. And the master is scared.

Because he feels no disgust nor calm- and why is that?

The disciple avoids him. And for an instant, the Master reaches out.


	4. Chapter 4

In the days thereafter, a tension fills their air. It sullies the path and he tries to pray. But his mind is pulled away, like a fish caught on a string.

He purges Wukong from his thoughts when the third disciple approaches, fierce head bowed- “Master, water.”

He furrows his brows, shakes his head. “Is something wrong?”

“It’s not Wujing’s place to speak.”

“If you have troubles, speak!”

Wujing looks up, shrinks, and says with a hesitant gulp: “I think you’re being cruel.”

A reprimand dies on the Master’s tongue.

“Eldest brother has never been in love before.”

He loved you.

“And?”

“He might not know what he feels. His affection doesn’t warrant such punishment from you. You’re his teacher. Help him, Master.”

And you hurt him.

He takes the water with a trembling hand.


	5. Chapter 5

There is a sliver of heaven between them but he knows it will never be. It comes apart like a tapestry, their sun-misted sky. And nothing remains unspoken.

Until Master says, “look at me.”

The monk beckons him to sit across. He struggles for silence- I’m sorry, I know my wrongs- but Master grasps his hands.

“We have much to learn, you and I.” Master smiles, beautiful. “Forgive me. I was rash.”

He breaks free and kowtows in response. “No, Master, Wukong is wrong!”

“As was I.” Master stands before him, as he did the day at the mountain, a savior he once resented so.

“Come back to me,” Master says, “come back as you did so many times before.”

And he does. For he always does.

We can overcome this together, you and I.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Comments/kudos are more than appreciated. This is a new writing style I'm trying out!


End file.
